Chapter 13

Everything that needed to be explained had been explained, and the bridal chamber night was destined to remain just that—a night, but without the bridal chamber. Zhao Yanping got out of bed and retrieved a dark, old bedsheet from the cabinet.

This piece of fabric, when stretched out, was just as long as the bed, about four feet wide. Each end had a small hook, which he attached to the bed’s canopy frame at both the head and foot of the bed, creating a partition right in the middle. The sheet was thick enough that neither person on either side could see what the other was doing, as long as they didn’t stand up and peek over.

“In autumn and winter, you’ll sleep inside; in spring and summer, when it’s hot, I’ll take the inside,” Zhao Yanping sat on the outer side of the bed and instructed in a low voice.

He had thought of everything so thoroughly—what else could A-Jiao say?

“There will be two quilts on the bed. If Grandmother asks, just say I prefer sleeping with my own quilt—it’s more comfortable that way,” Zhao Yanping added, pulling another quilt from the cabinet.

Hearing him arrange the bedding on the other side, A-Jiao bit her lip, then picked up the white handkerchief prepared at the bedside and slowly slid it under the bed partition. In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “This… Grandmother will surely check it tomorrow morning.”

Zhao Yanping glanced at it and took the handkerchief.

A-Jiao heard him get out of bed again but couldn’t see what he was doing. A moment later, he slid the handkerchief back to her. In the center of the once-pristine fabric, there were now a few spots of crimson.

A-Jiao gasped. “Master Zhao, you—”

“I made a small cut on my shoulder. It’s just a minor wound,” Zhao Yanping replied evenly. “This is all I can do. From now on, if Grandmother asks about what happens in the room, you’ll have to make something up—make it sound convincing. If she finds out I haven’t touched you, she’ll pressure you, just as she forces Cui Niang to work, urging you to seduce me.”

At that moment, A-Jiao suddenly realized— Old Madam Zhao was the one who would determine how her future days would unfold.

Tucking the handkerchief away, A-Jiao finally voiced the question that had been weighing on her heart. “Master Zhao, why not just tell Grandmother your reasons? If you explain, surely she would understand you.”

Zhao Yanping sat at the bedside, gazing at the pair of slender candles on the table. “She worked so hard to raise me. If I said those things, she would think I resented her.”

As a child, he had indeed resented Grandmother. He had believed it was she who had forced his mother to remarry, who had conspired with his uncle to sell his sister. But later, he understood—Grandmother wasn’t that cruel. She simply saw him as the most important person in the family.

A-Jiao felt even greater admiration for the man outside the partition. He kept everything bottled up and honored his grandmother in his own way.

“Get some sleep,” Zhao Yanping said, lying down.

A-Jiao’s wedding garments were intricate and cumbersome, making it uncomfortable to sleep in. She had been willing to give herself to him, but since he didn’t want that, there was no need to worry about him sneaking a glance over the partition. Lowering her head, she quietly removed her wedding attire.

Underneath, she wore a loose short tunic and gauzy pants. Her dowry, given to her by her uncle, had been tied securely in a small pouch fastened to her chest bindings. The bag was stuffed between her breasts, held tightly in place so it wouldn’t fall.

With her back to him, her cheeks flushed as she removed the pouch. Clutching it tightly, she softly called, “Master Zhao.”

“Hmm?” he responded.

Lying down first, she carefully slid the pouch under the partition and whispered, “This is the dowry my uncle secretly gave me. The jewelry inside was left to me by my mother, and the silver is the money my uncle returned to me for my ransom. Last night, he instructed me to let you inspect it, so there would be no misunderstandings if anything in your household ever went missing.”

Zhao Yanping didn’t think she was the type to steal, but knowing Grandmother’s temperament, it was indeed better to check—it would serve as proof in the future.

“Alright.”

He sat up, took paper and a brush from the desk, then returned with an oil lamp.

The pouch was still lying beneath the partition, warm to the touch.

He didn’t need to guess—she had obviously been keeping it close to her body.

Out of habit as a constable, Zhao Yanping’s mind instinctively listed the possible places one could conceal such a pouch. At the same time, a faint fragrance drifted from the fabric, and recalling the subtle movements he had heard earlier, he suddenly felt that the pouch had become scorching hot in his hands.

Shaking off the thought, he quickly poured out the contents, carefully tallying them while writing a detailed record.

After a while, he handed the pouch and paper back to A-Jiao.

By the light of the candle he held above the partition, A-Jiao propped herself up and saw that he had meticulously listed every item. He had even recorded that the ten taels of silver were part of her bride price, while the remaining twelve were her own dowry. The three pieces of jewelry were also categorized under her dowry.

At the bottom of the paper, Zhao Yanping had signed his name as a witness.

“Keep this paper safe. In the morning, store the silver and jewelry together,” he instructed as he set the lamp down. “They are all yours.”

A-Jiao felt undeserving of the bride price. “I live in your home, eating and sleeping under your roof without contributing. How could I still accept your bride price? I should hand it over to Grandmother for safekeeping.”

But Zhao Yanping replied, “As long as you remain in the Zhao family, you are my concubine. I’m paying ten taels of silver for you to keep Grandmother at ease—how is that freeloading? As for the dressing table and silks, they were gifts from the county magistrate to celebrate the marriage. They are naturally yours. Even if you wish to show filial respect to Grandmother, she has no use for them at her age. Just keep and use them yourself.”

With no choice, A-Jiao obeyed him.

Zhao Yanping extinguished the lamp.

Lying down in the dark, A-Jiao couldn’t see him, but she could hear his steady, rhythmic breathing. That sound alone filled her heart with anticipation for the days ahead.

No matter what happened, she no longer had to endure the scorn of her aunt and cousin.

—

Zhao Yanping slept without shifting positions throughout the night, unlike Zhu Shuangshuang, who tossed and turned. Sometimes, Zhu would even deliberately wake A-Jiao when she got up at night.

But this night, A-Jiao slept more soundly than she had in a long time. She only woke when she heard the sound of water being splashed in the courtyard.

As she tried to rise, a calm voice came from the other side of the partition. “Lie back down. We’ve only just been married—getting up too early will raise suspicion.”

A-Jiao was so startled by Zhao Yanping’s composed tone that she immediately lay back down again.

It took a while before she fully remembered her situation in the Zhao household—she was now Zhao Yanping’s concubine. He was fixated on finding his sister and had no interest in marriage, but in front of Old Madam Zhao, she had to act as if they were truly husband and wife.

“Master, is the old madam as clever as you?” A-Jiao asked softly.

Zhao Yanping thought for a moment and replied, “She won’t think that deeply. But she knows exactly how a woman should behave after marriage. I, however, do not. Be careful not to slip up.”

A-Jiao traced her fingertips along the fabric dividing the bed and hesitantly said, “I don’t want to slip up either, but… but I… I’ve only ever heard how courtesans serve men, I’ve never seen how they act afterward.”

Her gaze was gentle, carrying a subtle hint of strategy. Since the official was so clever, he should be able to tell from her words that she was truly untouched.

Zhao Yanping had never doubted that. There were many courtesans in Huayue Brothel, but the way she looked at constables was different from a real courtesan—her eyes were filled with fear of the unknown. When she followed him to search for the madam, several times, the slightest movement in the distance startled her like a frightened bird. She had barely stopped herself from clutching his sleeve for protection.

“You’ll have to improvise.”

That was the only advice he could give.

When the rest of the Zhao family was awake, Zhao Yanping finally signaled A-Jiao that she could get up.

“Officer, could you help me fetch the begonia-red dress?” A-Jiao asked while still lying down. Her wedding attire was too cumbersome; she only intended to wear it this once in her lifetime.

Zhao Yanping walked to the trunk she had brought. Inside, there were two blankets and four sets of clothes—two for autumn and winter, two for spring and summer, all made of simple cloth. He picked out the begonia-red autumn dress and handed it to her before stepping aside to a spot where he couldn’t see into the bed.

A-Jiao’s clothes and blankets were all handmade by herself, fitted perfectly to her size. Once dressed, she took down the bed curtain, got out of bed, and saw that Zhao Yanping was already fully dressed—deep-colored robes, a square cap on his head, his expression as cold as ever.

He glanced at her. A-Jiao didn’t dare meet his gaze. She walked over, carefully stored the bed divider in the wardrobe, then returned to make the bed. The two blankets were folded neatly and placed side by side at the foot of the bed. As for the white handkerchief, she bit her lip before finally deciding to place it under the pillow—she figured the old madam would come to check it later.

“Cui Niang is cooking. Go outside and fetch some water for washing, just as you would in your own home. No need to be overly reserved,” Zhao Yanping instructed.

A-Jiao nodded, unlatched the door, and stepped out.

Outside was the main hall, the place where the family gathered to eat and talk.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw the old madam sitting at the dining table—alone. From the west room, faint voices could be heard. That must be the officer’s mother, Madam Liu, and his younger half-sister, Shen Ying. The officer had introduced them to her earlier.

The old madam scrutinized A-Jiao with a sharp gaze.

A-Jiao blushed under her stare, nervously lowering her head. “Good morning, Old Madam. The officer has just woken up, I will fetch water to serve him for washing.”

The old madam couldn’t tell anything amiss for now, but she was satisfied that A-Jiao at least knew how to tend to her grandson. “Go ahead, it’ll be time for breakfast soon.”

A-Jiao quickly made her way to the front courtyard.

In the kitchen, Cui Niang had already boiled water. A-Jiao picked up a washbasin from under the eaves and stepped inside, finding Cui Niang stirring leftover dishes in the pan. The sweet potato porridge was already cooked.

“Young Madam is up!” Cui Niang greeted her with a smile.

A-Jiao hadn’t done anything wrong, but she still felt a bit embarrassed. She nodded slightly at Cui Niang, scooped up some water, and carried it back inside.

With just one basin of water, Zhao Yanping pulled out two towels, wet them both, and handed one to A-Jiao. They washed together.

A-Jiao wiped her lips extra carefully this time, rubbing them so thoroughly that they turned rosy as if she had applied lip rouge. The contrast made her fair complexion appear even more delicate.

After finishing up, Zhao Yanping left the room while A-Jiao stayed behind to brush her hair and tidy herself up.

The old madam watched her grandson emerge and scrutinized him in the same way she had scrutinized A-Jiao.

Zhao Yanping’s expression was unreadable—there was no sign of whether he was satisfied with A-Jiao or not.

The old madam leaned in and asked quietly, “Well? Did Grandmother choose the wrong concubine for you?”

Zhao Yanping sat beside her, frowning slightly. “She’s alright. Just cries too much.”

The old madam shot her grandson a disapproving glance.

What did he mean, A-Jiao cries too much? With his physique, even women who had given birth might not be able to handle him, let alone a delicate young girl like A-Jiao.

If her grandson had complained about anything else, she might have found fault with A-Jiao. But on this matter, the old madam was firmly on A-Jiao’s side!